


Dammek's Reward

by Atsugaruru



Category: Hiveswap
Genre: Bulges and Nooks, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Quadrant Confusion, Tentabulges, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 14:59:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12843624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atsugaruru/pseuds/Atsugaruru
Summary: A part of you still wasn’t sure if this was what normal moirails did. You had considered searching the internet for answers, but you knew from experience that Dammek monitored your browsing history. It was better to trust him. And oh, if you didn’t find it amazing, the way he took care of you. You never felt more loved, more alive, than when he was on top of you, kissing you until you were dizzy and breathless, his hands all over your body and all over your bulge. He was so good to you and you loved him so much. In a pale way, of course.





	Dammek's Reward

 

By the time you finished cleaning the nutrition block, the moons in the sky were dipping. You had spent most of the night working on Dammek’s lower floor, sifting through mountains garbage and scrubbing out old grub juice stains from the furniture. And while you hadn’t planned on doing this today, when the tetrarch asked you to, you came over without skipping a beat. Who were you to deny him anything? Besides, you liked cleaning. It kept your mind and your hands busy, and there was something very cathartic about it.

You think you should head home soon, so after washing your hands you head up to the loft to find Dammek working on his husktop. He has a music editing software open, and you smile as the memories of this week’s earlier band practices wash over you. Your band’s still not nearly as good as the ones you listen to, but that’s really your own fault, you should be trying harder. You make a mental note to practice your singing tomorrow.

The tetrarch notices you standing there and takes off his headphones, twisting in his chair to face you.

Oh, uh. “I, uh, finished cleaning for today.” Suddenly nervous you twiddle your fingers together.

He smiles at you in a way that makes your bile sacs churn. “That’s great, bro. You’re being a valuable asset to your tetrarch. You want a reward?”

You shudder in anticipation. Oh. _Oh_. You had planned to just go home and sleep, but this was much, much better. “Yes.” Please, yes.

“Come on then, come and get it, bro.”

Blood pusher pounding in your chest you nod, and make your way over to where he's beckoning you. You settle yourself on his thighs, and squeak when he cups the back of your head and pulls you into a kiss, your eyes fluttering closed. Dammek tilts your head so he can slip his tongue into your mouth. His hoodie is warm and you cling to him like a wriggler.

This feels so red; your face heats up at the thought, but you scold yourself because this is strictly pale. A reward for being a good moirail, for being a good little rustblood, and nothing more. A part of you still wasn’t sure if this was what normal moirails did. You had considered searching the internet for answers, but you knew from experience that Dammek monitored your browsing history. It was better to trust him. And oh, if you didn’t find it amazing, the way he took care of you. You never felt more loved, _more alive_ , than when he was on top of you, kissing you until you were dizzy and breathless, his hands all over your body and all over your bulge. He was so good to you and you loved him so much. In a pale way, of course.

His mouth moves to kiss your jawline before pressing kisses down your throat, the sensation of his fangs scraping your skin make you shudder.

“What do you want to do, bro? What do you want your reward to be?”

Dammek’s nipping at your earlobe, and the hands slipping under your shirt to thumb over your grubscars have your mind spinning.

“Can,” you gasp. A blush burns across your face. “Can you put your bulge in me?”

The bronzeblood looks down at you, a smirk on his face, and he responds by catching your bottom lip with his fangs and tugging. “Sure.”

You chirp into his mouth, bulge stirring and nook tingling in arousal. Dammek keeps kissing you, his lips so wet and so warm, as he guides you out of the chair and into a pile of dirty laundry. He pushes you down, hovering over you. You make a mental note to start washing his clothes soon, but all thoughts dissolve from your thinkpan when he presses his knee in between your legs.

“Dammek!” you gasp, gripping onto his hoodie and tangling your fingers into his hair. Your hips betray you as rut yourself against him, your bulge already squirming out to twist against the fabric of your underwear. You pant, face buried into his collar as you roll your hips against him. A part of you is ashamed for getting worked up so fast, but that's just what Dammek does to you, that's just how much _power_ he holds over you.

He’s mouthing and biting down your neck. One of his hands slips back up your shirt, ghosting his fingers over your sensitive belly, before reaching up to give one of your rumble spheres a squeeze. The little shocks of pleasure have you squealing underneath him as he gropes and palms at your chest. Your rumble spheres are still coming in, still small, but the Tetrarch still loves playing with them anyways, squeezing and biting and kissing them until you're a moaning, writhing mess.

“Tetrarch,” you whine, because this isn’t nearly enough stimulation. You guide his hand down to the waistband of your pants. “Can you?”

He bites down at your nape as punishment for your impatience. You wail. "Are you trying to boss your Tetrarch around?“ He slips his palm down your boxers nonetheless, finding the tip of your bulge before giving it a gentle squeeze and rubbing the slit.

"A-aahh!” You cry out, back arching and hips bucking in response. “Da-Dammek, please!” Your bulge slides out further in seek of the sweet heat and friction of Dammek’s fingers. It tries to curl around his wrist, tries to fuck his hand.

He’s unbuttoning your pants before you know it, you take a moment to help shimmy out of them and kick off your shoes before Dammek crawls back on top of you. He traps you in between his legs. His tongue forces his way deep into your mouth, tries to lick down your throat, so intensely that you’re having trouble breathing. And, god, he’s purring, _purring for you_ , and you find yourself purring back, thrilled beyond relief. It feels so good and unreal, you think you might be dreaming.

The tetrarch palms your inner thighs, gives your ass a squeeze before his knuckles slide up to the wet, sensitive folds of your nook. You moan and spread your legs shamelessly for him.

“How badly do you want it, bro?”

You open your eyes to face Dammek, but instead you find him looking down at you. He’s drinking in the sight of your exposed nook and your twisting bulge while his hands soothe and knead into your hips. You didn't think your face could possibly get any hotter, but that’s just what it does. There's a tightness in your chest, and you feel incredibly embarrassed and incredibly aroused at the same time.

“I,” you swallow. “I really want it, Tetrarch. I really want this.”

He hums approvingly. Relief floods over you when Dammek finally yanks down his pants and exposes himself to you. The sight of your moirails bronze bulge, fully unsheathed, gleaming with genetic material, makes your nook throb with excitement. He finally presses your hips together, and your bulges intertwine. You trill and tighten your grip on his shirt. His bulge is so hot, so slick. He rubs and twists against you in all the right ways, and you think you might come before he even sticks it in you.

“Tetrarch,” you warn with a breathy whine.

“Shh, I got you, bro.” He untangles your bulges slowly and pulls his hips away from yours so you can cool down. As you squeeze your eyes shut, his fingers run through your hair and pap your face lovingly. Dammek goes back to kissing you, so sweet and so tender that you might melt against him.

“Ok,” you exhale through your nose. “I think I’m ready.”

You brace your arms around his neck as Dammek sinks his claws into your shoulders. His bulge runs teasingly against the lips of your nook, making you moan wantonly.

When Dammek’s bulge presses into you, you practically scream. The overwhelming, intense sensation practically _burns_ as he pushes into you mercilessly. You can feel every inch of him coiling and twisting into you, stretching you apart, sending shockwaves throughout your body. He pins your arms over your head, and his fangs are on you again, biting and sucking on your neck. You have to shake your head and pull away because it’s just too much.

“You doing ok?”

You gasp, groan, as you feel him squirm inside you so wonderfully. But you still manage to nod, dazed, because you don't want him to stop. Dammek intertwines his fingers with yours, and, oh wow. You’re so so pale for him it practically hurts.

His bulge presses against your shameglobes in a way that makes your entire body wrack with pleasure and makes your toes curl. You throw your head back and lose yourself in the sensations, in the roll of his hips, in the rhythm of his heavy breathing. Dammek is moaning on top of you, kissing your cheek and panting into your ear. A hand slides down to paw at your bulge,and when his fingers wrap around it he _tugs_. You almost come right then and there.

“Dammek!” Your nook clamps down against him and he growls, a noise that makes your thinkpan shut down, but has your bulge thrashing in his grasp. You clench against him again, and he rewards you with more of that beautiful, thrilling sound.

“I’m close, bro. You want me to come in you? You want to be my pail?” His breath is shaky, deep and low, and it sends shudders down your spine.

“Tetrarch, please, yes! Yes!”

He works his bulge deep into you, finally finding your seedflap before rubbing and pushing against it.

You scream as you orgasm, your nook squeezing down against him, drawing him in so tight, that Dammek comes in you without warning, rocking your hips together, clawing at your back, and hissing your name. The hot flood of his slurry in you makes you cry out and has your hips twitching violently. Tears form in the corners of your eyes from overstimulation.

Dammek’s rocking finally slows down to a stop. He pulls your head into his chest, and you can feel the way his blood pusher pounds in his thoracic cavity as he gives you a minute to adjust. His bulge is still in you, curling lazily and rippling with aftershocks. You moan pathetically, but he runs his hands soothingly over your lower back, and he sounds so pleased. So happy. “Did you like your reward?”

You open your bleary eyes to see Dammek smiling at you, shades askew, and his hair sticking out at odd angles. It’s rare to see the tetrarch like this, and you can't help but feel so proud of yourself because _you_ were the one who did this to him. You often felt like your moirallegiance was very one sided, like the tetrarch got nothing out of being palemates with you. But every time Dammek looks at you, sexed out of his thinkpan, you think that just maybe, he loves you just as much as you love him.

Your nook is still achingly sensitive by the time he pulls out, and a trickle of slurry runs down between your thighs. When you look down, you're mortified to see you came all over your stomachs, onto his hoodie, and onto the already dirty laundry below you. Crap, you should head to your hive and start cleaning this mess before it stains.

Dammek grabs a shirt from underneath him to clean yourselves.Your blood pusher swells, touched. You didn’t think he understood the concept of cleaning up. He wipes the genetic material between your legs with uncharacteristic gentleness that makes you want to treasure this moment forever. You try to ignore the fact that you're the one who's going to be handwashing those stains out later.

When you try to sit up, the slurry inside of you swishes and you groan at the uncomfortable, bloated sensation. “Can I, uh, get a bucket?”

Dammek rubs his hands over the little swell of your abdomen. He smiles down at you like a proud lusus. “Nah, bro. You said you wanted to be my pail, right? You gotta hold it in.”

Your eyes widen in horror. Oh no. “For how long?” You swallow.

“As long as I say so. You trust me, don’t you?”

“Of course,” you say without hesitation. Because you do. You trust Dammek with your life. You relax and cup his face as he presses a final kiss against your lips.


End file.
